The Road goes ever on
by MistyC
Summary: Frodo's thoughts at key points within the trilogy. This was inspired by the ME Express challenge prompt 41: Road.


Dedication: This story was written for and dedicated to Sio, who suggested the general idea and let me run with it. Merry Christmas! 

Summary: Frodo's thoughts at key points within the trilogy. This was inspired by the ME Express challenge prompt #41: Road. (It certainly is too long to be considered a prompt fic.)

Disclaimers: I don't own the characters, and I make no money from this.

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Frodo paused for a moment, turning back to look at Bag End for what could be the last time. He clutched his pocket tightly, feeling the outline of the golden ring that had been left to him by Bilbo on his departure. Though he did not wish to leave his home, and hated being forced to flee in order to keep the Shire safe, he felt a small thrill of excitement. He was heading off on an adventure, much like Bilbo had, so long ago. Often in his thoughts he had roamed the lands of Middle-earth with Bilbo, fighting dragons and trolls, flying with the eagles, and hunting treasure with the dwarves. In all his years, though, he had never left the boundaries of the Shire. This would be his chance to see more of the world and those that dwelled within it. He and Sam were going to visit Rivendell and see the elves. A smile crossed his face at the thought. That would certainly make Sam quite happy. They would bring the ring to Lord Elrond and once that was done…well, they would just have to see, wouldn't they?

"Goodbye," Frodo whispered to the darkened house, where he had spent so many happy years. Waving, he turned resolutely toward the road, and took his first step away from the safety of his home. Though he expected danger to follow him, he couldn't help the feeling of anticipation rising in him as he and Pippin started out. This would be quite an adventure.

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Frodo glanced around at all the elves standing nearby, watching he and the rest of the fellowship as they prepared to leave the peaceful valley and journey into the very heart of the Enemy's realm. Elrond's words resounded in his ears, telling the others that only Frodo bore the charge to see to the destruction of the ring. The others would only be asked to go as far with him as they chose. In a way, Frodo was glad of that. It was not his choice to bring Sam, Merry and Pippin with him into such danger, but he was glad of their company now. Perhaps that would change later, and he could convince them to leave him and find safety for themselves. He would not wish them to be bound by a vow to follow him in such a case. Their brave and loyal hearts would never allow them to break any vow, especially one such as that.

Glancing at Aragorn, he found himself quite glad that the man had chosen to accompany him for as much of their journey as their paths coincided. He knew that he would have to part with the man when he and Boromir turned toward Gondor, but Frodo was grateful that he would have Strider's protection for hundreds of miles. The knowledge that Gandalf would be with him was a source of great comfort. Gandalf had long been a friend of his and Bilbo's, and though Frodo felt that he did not truly know the power the wizard possessed, he felt sure that Gandalf would not allow him to come to any harm if it were within his power. A frown briefly crossed Frodo's face as his hand came up to clutch briefly at his shoulder. Lowering his hand quickly, he hoped no one had seen the gesture. The wound from the wraith's blade was a vivid reminder that even when a protector was near, he could still be wounded. He only hoped that Gandalf, Strider, and the others would be enough to at least protect Sam, Merry and Pippin. It would break his heart utterly if any of them came to harm because of him.

Glancing around at the other members of the fellowship, he considered what little he knew of Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli. They had actually not spent a great deal of time together thus far, so he did not know much about them. Boromir was a strong man, strong of body and strong in his opinions. If he did not agree with what was being said, he did not hesitate to share his thoughts. Frodo sensed that he was an honorable man, however, one who loved and wished to protect his people. Legolas was still a mystery to Frodo. The elf had spent most of their time here with the other elves, and Frodo had seen little of him at all. The elf seemed merry enough, most times singing and wandering the gardens, though being around Gimli was the surest way to bring a frown to his face. It could be quite interesting, having the elf and dwarf on this quest together. They constantly bickered and sniped at each other, and while Legolas seemed quite content to simply ignore the dwarf, Gimli took great pleasure in irritating the woodland elf. Frodo knew their enmity stemmed from the encounter between their fathers, but wondered how they would behave as traveling companions.

A sound broke into his thoughts and he turned to see the others readying their packs and preparing to leave. Frodo straightened up, settled his pack firmly on his shoulders and moved to take his place among the fellowship. Glancing around at the beauty of Imladris, he felt a tear come to his eye. This would not be an easy trip, in any way, and at the end of this road, there would be no place of safety and beauty waiting for him. The very name of Mordor struck fear into his heart, and it was that place to which they now headed. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, he turned his gaze to the steep path leading out of the peaceful valley. That path led to what would be the most important journey of his life. The road that stretched out before him now seemed long, hard and very uncertain.

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Beaten and bloody, weary and defeated, Frodo stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the vast expanse of Mordor stretching out before him. His shoulders slumped wearily. Though they had come so far, through so much pain and sorrow, they still had such a distance to go. This land was crawling with orcs and other servants of the Enemy, standing between him and Sam and the mountain they had to reach. How could they reach their destination? They had not come so far only to fail now, but he did not see how they could possibly reach Mount Doom through all of those foul creatures filling this land.

It still amazed him that he and Sam had escaped Cirith Ungol alive. When he awoke in the dark tower to find the orcs taunting and hurting him, stripped of his clothes and all his belongings, he had thought the entire quest ended in failure. The despair that had swept over him then had nearly stopped his heart. The absence of the ring around his neck had caused panic and pain that was nearly unbearable. When he had seen Sam in that tower, his heart had leapt in joy, but then shame filled him as he had to admit that he had lost the ring, that he had failed. Finding out that Sam had the ring, he had felt such a need to have it back in his possession that he had grabbed it out of Sam's hand. Thinking on it now, he felt shamed. He knew that Sam had only wanted to help him. It was ever Sam's first thought, how to help make Frodo's life easier, how to help him.

Looking beside him, Frodo saw Sam standing firm beside him, where he had been since the start of this wretched quest. Steeling his resolve, he took one step on the path. No matter how hot, weary or broken he was, he still had a journey to finish. The road stretching out before him seemed endless and hopeless, but he had to try.

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Stopping to look back over his shoulder, Frodo gazed back at the glorious seven-tiered city of Minas Tirith. The time he had spent here as a guest of the king, of Aragorn and his new queen, the Lady Arwen, still seemed nothing so much as a wonderful dream. He had accepted in the depths of Mordor that he would never return from those dark lands, that he and Sam, loyal to the end, would perish there. The fulfillment of the quest, no matter how it had happened, had lightened his heart and relieved his mind. At least they would not now die in vain. As the world exploded around them, he relaxed back, secure that Sauron was defeated, that the world, the Shire, was safe. That was all that really mattered.

When he had awoken and seen Gandalf sitting beside him, he had first thought he had died. After seeing Gandalf fall in Moria, how else would the wizard be at his side? However, Gandalf had reassured him that he was alive, that they had succeeded and had been rescued, plucked from the fires that sought to devour them. Once they had arrived in Minas Tirith and seen Aragorn crowned, Frodo's thoughts had turned back toward the Shire. He wanted nothing more than to return home, see the lands he loved and the place he thought he would find peace. At Aragorn's request, he had remained, and seen the arrival of Arwen, and had witnessed their wedding. That had been a truly joyful moment for them all, and he was so grateful that he had lived and been able to see it. But now, it was finally time to return home.

Frodo glanced down at his hand and saw his missing finger once again. It was an ever present reminder of all the horrors he had lived through, the changes that had taken place within him. He did not know if he could return to the life he had once led, but he wanted to try. Glancing around him, he saw all of his friends, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, and many others. They had all survived, and were moving on, living their lives and relishing the world of peace they had all achieved. A smile crossed his face and he turned back to look at the road before him. This road was one he had never thought he would travel, the road home.

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Sighing softly, Frodo glanced around once more at his home. Bag End had been cleaned up and restored wonderfully after they had thrown out Sharkey and his men. It was back to being as he remembered it, as the home he had grown up in. Smiling, he thought that it would be a great place for Sam and Rosie, and all the children they would have. Sam deserved this chance to live his life for himself, no longer having to worry about taking care of Frodo, trying to help him heal from wounds that could not be healed in Middle Earth. Though he had never thought that he would use Arwen's gift to him, he now knew that he would find no peace and healing here, as he had once thought.

It would hurt Sam deeply, he and Merry and Pippin. He had never wanted to hurt any of them, but he knew they would understand, eventually. He and Bilbo would take one final journey with the elves, sailing to a faraway land. There, and only there, would they be able to find the peace and healing they so desired.

Trailing his fingers over the large book lying on the table before him, he smiled wistfully. His story on Middle-earth was finished, his time over. The last page was filled, the last word written. Now it was time for Sam to pick up pen and ink and continue the tale, filling the pages with his words, and this home with his life and laughter. Glancing out the window, he saw Sam waiting with their ponies, Strider and Bill. It was time to start. He hated to think of the pain that Sam would feel when he told him the true purpose of this journey, but Sam would heal. He would come home to his wife and little Elanor, and go on with his life, as it should be.

As he stepped through the door, Bilbo's traveling song came to his mind and he smiled to himself as he began singing under his breath, 'The Road goes ever on and on'. His road, it would seem, was not quite ended, a brand new adventure lying before him. Excitement and joy welled up within him as he mounted his pony and gestured for Sam to ride alongside him. "Come, Sam, it is time we were on the road."


End file.
